


Chrysalis

by DevinTowerwood



Series: Life in Snippets [1]
Category: Life Is Strange
Genre: F/F, Life is Strange Misfits, Multi, Polyamory, Supernatural AU - Freeform, bigender!Chloe Price, trans!Victoria Chase
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-23 02:15:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4859291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevinTowerwood/pseuds/DevinTowerwood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the alternate universe of Life is Strange, the storm is still coming. Max Caulfield fled this world and its consequences, and yet they remain. The girl she left behind, as well as her girlfriend Victoria Chase, are left with one week to solve the mysteries of Arcadia Bay, while a budding romance and friendship with Kate Marsh forms. Without quest or direction, will they be able to fulfill Rachel's wishes? Or will Arcadia Bay succumb to its fate?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Happy Snippet

_Art by[quenenie](http://quenenie.tumblr.com/)_

“Hello? Are you all right, Maxine?”

Max blinked several times in succession, somewhat dazed, turning her head to look around her. Taylor. Nathan. In the distance: Stella, and the kid who wore too many meme t-shirts. Warren? Warren.

Where was she?

She tilted her head back, and she remembered. Her head lay nestled on the felt-adorned lap of Victoria Chase.

 

“Max, never Maxine.”

Victoria rolled her eyes and smiled down at her defiant girlfriend. She ran her hand through the tiny brunette’s hair as she started responding, “Oh, right, of course, Max. Are you all right? Do you want to head back to the dorms and blaze?”

Max looked straight into her eyes for a moment, as if lost, but the stare became increasingly focused, and Victoria couldn’t break her gaze. “What is it?”

“Ugh, she is so out of it. This is why I didn’t want her in the Vortex Club, she cannot maintain her cool.”

“Oh, chill out Courtney, you don’t want anyone joining the Vortex club.” Courtney had been very negative around Max ever since Victoria had expressed interest in her, as the two photographers rapidly took to spending a lot of time together that had previously been reserved for Taylor and Courtney. Taylor had been distracted for the past few weeks and it hadn’t really seemed to get to her, but Courtney …  
The thought ended there, because Max still looking up at Victoria.

“What’s wrong, Max?”

She shook her head, the tips of her hair falling over Victoria’s knee onto the grass. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

Her fingers swept around the back of Victoria’s neck and pulled her down. The smile returned to Victoria’s small, pink lips as she leaned down, kissing Max softly. She had expected the sort of peck they normally reserved in front of their friends, but Max held her longer than she expected. It was warm and unusually intimate, but it left Victoria at ease. There was nothing wrong. She was just a student at an art school and she was in love. It was perfect.

“Niiiiiiiiiice,” jeered Nathan.

Victoria broke the kiss with the anxious giggle of a child caught eating something they’d been told not to eat and they knew they’d get caught.

“See? They have no chill,” Courtney remarked, in hopes of evoking some sympathy from Taylor, who was involved with her phone.

Taylor looked up from the screen: “Hmm? Oh. Yeah. Totally.” She wasn’t sure what just happened, and that signaled to everyone else how irrelevant it was. Courtney was denied her spark of attention.

Victoria traced the side of Max’s face with her finger. “I love you, Maxine.”  
Max didn’t correct her, she just kept looking up, but her eyes began to glisten and crinkle, and her lip curled in the smile-grimace of crying. She turned her head towards Victoria’s belly and hugged her as well as her position allowed.  
“I love you too, Victoria Chase.”

 


	2. D&D At Blackwell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warren invites a chimera of friends to come and enjoy a session of tabletop gaming. Everyone is a massive dork.

_ _

_Art by[@jmojellybeans](http://tmblr.co/m_ljKy5hY-rhCX5099RV7-Q)_

 

Victoria Chase was approximately 80% more disheveled when she was alone in her room, unobserved and unobservable, than at all other times. This was particularly noticeable in her posture, which at all other times suggested dominance and respectability. So long as she was here, though, she could rest her face in her hand while her elbow sat on the center of her desk, scrolling through Facebook left handed, the pinnacle of low involvement.

And then, her phone vibrated. A text from Max. It read, “have you ever heard of d&d?”

 

> **Victoria:**  “what?””
> 
> **Max:**  “you know, Dungeons and Dragons”

Victoria was mystified. 

 

> **Victoria:** “like the geek shit you see on television?”
> 
> **Max:**  “that’s the one. Tolkein stuff. Would you be interested in playing it?”
> 
> **Victoria:**  “is it like a computer game?”
> 
> **Max:**  “Oh no. It is so much more.”
> 
>  

* * *

 

Max opened the door of the boy’s dorm common room. Being one of the oldest buildings in the school, it was particularly poorly designed, being a rectangular room with a three-part rectangular table in the center as well as a TV mounted on the wall with the electricity being fed to it by orange cables that had to be allowed in by drilling through the wall to the outside. Behind her was Victoria, who absolutely would not enter first, as if eager to be in a room with the others she knew would be there. This was often Victoria’s attitude, so it didn’t phase Max, even if it was rude. Victoria demanded a lot of control.

Warren, Stella, and Alyssa were already present, meaning there was still one player missing.

Warren was extremely quick to respond to their entrance: “Ha-hey there Max! And Viiicky.”  
Before Victoria had scooped Max up into the Vortex Club scene, Warren had believed he and Max were destined best friends due to an unusual love of mediocre science fiction and filmography, but she had been essentially untouchable as soon as she became part of the Victoria clique. He later discovered that she and Stella frequented the same dealer, which had been the source of a great deal of discomfort in their relationship. Luckily, both Victoria and Max seemed eager to stay away from hard drugs, which partially inspired the idea for this group. Still, he was entirely convinced Victoria was a massive bitch, and that was communicated every time they made eye contact. Such as right now.

Max responded with a slight wave and a “Hi Warren” - she made no introduction to the other two, largely because she didn’t want to acknowledge having met Stella on the beach, nor her aggressive encounters with Alyssa in the past week. Victoria had heard about both, but social niceties were more her territory.

“Hey there Stella, Alyssa; Warren. How’re you guys doing?”  
Max moved to a seat next to Alyssa, placing Victoria directly across from Warren, but just then the door opened again to allow in the only person every as squarely dressed as Victoria herself - the reserved Kate Marsh in crisp but nondescript black and white, her hands curled under a blue binder that she held to her stomach, the other hand on her door. Her face visibly brightened, characteristically bringing up her cheeks as she saw the crowd.

“Max, I’m so glad you could come!” Victoria found herself somewhat pushed back against the wall as Max stood up to hug the tiny church girl briefly. She stood there for an awkward instant, but Kate’s eyes made it to Victoria after a brief squeeze shut.

“Oh, hey Victoria - it’s so nice you could make it.” Victoria stood up straighter, noticing that her brief surprise had allowed her to slouch, and just nodded curtly. She offered, at best, a quiet ‘Yeah’ as they all sat down - Kate between Victoria and Stella, across from Max.

Warren seemed positively enthused - “Allll right the gang’s all here. Did you all get a chance to make a character or, uh, read the core rulebook?” He looked wary.

“Uh huh,” Stella finally issued with the sort of grin reserved for a ridiculous loved one - in this case, due to the fact that he’d been explaining why wizards were the _best class ever_ to her for about the past week to the point she’d hardly even needed to look at the book.

Max: “Oh, yeah, I’ve got it right here,” she started to rifle through her messenger bag.

Kate just opened up her blue binder and unclasped the rings, retrieving three perfect sheets and laying them on the table.

Rather silently, Victoria duplicated Max’s motion but in her purse, retrieving the same three sheets as Kate, but hers having been folded into quarters, which she immediately began smoothing out.

Only Alyssa just sort of frowned, “I’ve actually been pretty busy . . . haven’t had the chance, sorry.”

Warren seem unperturbed - excited, even, “Oh, no problem, I have a few characters” - he opened up a manilla folder and removed a few sheets, handing them to Alyssa who uttered a brief _thanks_  and began to look at a big sheet of terms and numbers she did not comprehend.

“Speaking of which, what did you all make.”

Kate, who seemed really excited for this question, answered first: “I’m playing a Catfolk Paladin named Gertrude. She worships Shelyn, the goddess of love, beauty, and art, and she’s wholly dedicated to the freedom and goodness of all races. I did a few little doodles of her . . .”

While she got those, Warren looked over to Stella on his left. “I’m playing an elven wizard,” she replied to his stare. “I specialize in . . . uh . . . conjuration - like, summoning monsters and stuff. It’s pretty cool.”

Then, to his right, Alyssa: “I’m uh.. a bard named Flynton. I’m a human, size medium I guess. I perform . . . string? Oh, stringed instruments. And I can cast magic. That’s cool.”

Onward, Max, “I’m a half-elven druid of the plains. My name is Kirk and I specialize in summoning and shapeshifting into quadrupedal herbivores. And I can talk to animals.” She might have explained more, but Kate had brought out her ‘doodles’ - which were essentially awesome but cartoonish portraits containing a furry creature in silver and golden armor with anime-esque cat ears. A songbird had also been drawn several times in a variety of colors.

Victoria cleared her throat, then began speaking very deliberately. “I’m an Elven Swashbuckler named Regina.” And that was that.

 

* * *

 

 

As everyone was cleaning up after the game, Warren was quick to engage Max. “So, it looks like you didn’t really need my help or anything - have you played before?”

Max brushed her hair out of her face a little, sweeping up dice so that Warren could stuff them in a big bag. Stella and Alyssa were keeping each other occupied. “Up in Seattle, some of my friends played a d&d game, but it wasn’t like this. We had, like, super powers that were time dependent.”

“Fourth edition?”

“I guess. Anyway, it just seemed pretty dense so I only ever played a few games. I found all the books of this Pathfinder stuff online though, so when Kate mentioned it, it was pretty easy to look into it.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Max noticed that Victoria had her hand placed against the wall, leaning on it in a way that suggested self confidence in a less reserved manner than she typically displayed. She was standing right in front of Kate, who had her sheets back in her binder and clasped both hands under it. Whatever they were talking about, she couldn’t quite hear.

Warren was clearly trying to keep her attention, so she replied in a way that she figured was safe regardless of whatever he had said while she zoned out - nerdily: “Yeah, I’ve always felt a pretty deep connection to animals, so when I found out about this druid class, and it sort of reminded me of the Sword in the Stone Merlin, shapeshifting while being this goodly wizard, I really liked the idea. Like, if I could have powers from these books, I think talking to animals and turning into a tiger and stuff would be pretty high on my list.”

He just seemed enthused by her immersion and thought: “Yeah, it’s pretty incredible what you can do, especially at higher levels.” He seemed to follow her eyes this time, though, as they drifted back to Kate and Victoria. “So, you and Victoria are like, girlfriends, right? I don’t have class with either of you and I don’t really hang out with the Vortex club but, right?”

Max nodded. “She’s really cool. I can see you two are pretty . . . curt with one another but I think you’d really like her if you knew her. She’s a big closet geek - just don’t tell her I told you that.”

“No way? What sort of stuff is she in to?”

Max’s face turned up in a somewhat uncharacteristically enthusiastic smile. “Like, nothing I would have expected, but it all seems pretty narrow - she likes space cowboys and pirates. Cowboy Bebop, Space Dandy, Firefly, that sort of stuff.” She figured this was as good a time as any to openly look over at Victoria and Kate, so she didn’t hold herself back. 

Kate swayed back and forth a little, as if the point she was clutching to her binder was the center of gravity, beginning little twirls and then cutting them short. She suddenly sputtered out a loud laugh, covering her mouth a little. Victoria was grinning.  
Did Kate . . .?  
Max fished through her bag for her Polaroid, quickly snatched it up, and snapped a picture of the blonde duo. They didn’t even seem to notice, but Alyssa was getting up and leaving. Max waved the fresh photo in the air.

“Well, that’s super rad. I never would have pegged her - hey, see ya Alyssa, thanks for coming. I hope you had a great time! You want me to keep ahold of your character sheet?” She’d left it on the table near him.

“Oh, yeah, sure, I guess. See you next week?”

There was a brief chorus of ‘Bye Alyssa!’s along with a hug from Kate, and then she was out the door. Max stashed the photo as well as her Polaroid back in her bag.

With the absence of Alyssa, a group focus re-emerged, as conversational duos no longer existed. Warren, always eager to speak, was first to the pitch, “So do you guys want to go like, to Denny’s, celebrate the loot haul? It’s a post-game thing.”

Kate looked somehow concerned with that idea, “Oh no, I can’t. It’s eleven already and I should really be getting back to my dorm - I have mass in the morning. I’ll see you guys later though, right?”  
Somewhat to Max’s surprise, Kate met Victoria’s eyes, not hers or Stella’s, during this last comment. She was _totally right_ about Kate.

Nevertheless, Warren was neither aware nor sensitive to this sort of nonverbal cue, so he responded, “Toootally, next week definitely - You guys need to handle those gnoll slavers anyway.”

Kate looked over at Warren, closing her eyes and pushing her lips up so that it would communicate more of a smile than if she’d left them open. “Yeah, of course. I’d like that. I’ll see you tomorrow, Max. Bye!” And then Kate was gone, too.

Warren looked at Max, and, hesitantly, at Victoria too. “You guys? Lava cakes and waffles? No?”

Max took a brief look at Victoria, read her resisting the urge to cross her arm over her chest to grasp her other arm, and looked back to Warren. “Wowzers, though, it’s eleven already? I’m beat and we both have got a lot of homework tomorrow. But I’ll see you later Warren. Bye Stella!”

Stella nodded casually but repeatedly, “Yeah, see you later guys.”

And they were the ones out the door.

Victoria rounded on Max immediately. “I kicked ass, right? Like, I wasn’t sure if this was competitive or cooperative at first but I’m good at it, right? Even if it’s nerd shit.”

Max chuckled, and they began walking. “Oh yeah, you’re awesome, especially keeping Alyssa’s second character from dying out of the blue. You rock at being a hero.”

Victoria, despite some level of trying not to care, raised her chin. “Fuck yeah. I’m totally going to win this Thursday with this Everyday Heroes contest.”

Max touched compulsively just under her nose, but felt nothing but upper lip. She kept smiling. “Well, you never know, Max Caulfield might make a last-minute ass-kicking entry the likes of which Regina, elven chevelier, cannot compare.”

They were just reaching the end of the entry hallway of the boy’s dorm, but Victoria’s little ego boost split on her face as a smirk, and then snaked out as an arm around her little brunette girlfriend’s waist, pulling her around to look at her.   
“You big fucking dork.”  
And then, Max leaned up on her toes and wrapped her arms around Victoria’s shoulders, bringing herself into a firm kiss, the first, dusty kiss of perfectly made-up lips on perfectly made lips. Victoria giggled a little after the first kiss, but then brought Max into another kiss, just holding each other’s embrace and kissing, riding off of their respective highs in the situation. Victoria, that she’d gotten the girl. Max, that others wanted her girl when Victoria only seemed to want her.

And that reminded her, when their kiss broke. “I think there’s something I have to tell you about Kate, by the way...” She smiled as she looked up into bright green eyes.


	3. Saturday Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max and Victoria take a break to discuss Kate Marsh.

_ _

_Art by[@jaegeristic](http://tmblr.co/mzSLnQeMqWfPlf_L2BpT-Gw)_

Once Max and Victoria disposed of their game stuff into their respective rooms, they quickly met back up in the bathroom. Max had miraculously found time to switch into pajamas with the equivalent agility of Clark Kent reverting to his Superman outfit - her rebellion against the new fashions that Victoria had ‘helped’ her adopt during her tenure at Blackwell.

Max immediately set to brushing her teeth, but Victoria started carefully removing her makeup, starting with her eyes, in neat strokes. She paused when one eye was totally removed. “So you really think Kate is attracted to me?”

 

_Brush brush brush. Spit._  “Well of course she is - everyone’s _attracted_ to you, but this is different.”

“You think she likes me. But why? I was always a bitch to her about the abstinence group.” Now that they’d settled into a dialectic, she resumed her routine. Even without the highlights of her makeup, her eyes were unusually bright. She’d noticed that as long as she’d been wearing makeup, but she never realized how powerful forcing people to look into your eyes was until a few years ago. With the right look, she could be downright threatening - and it all relied on those bright eyes.

“Well, I think you redeemed yourself last Thursday. Kate doesn’t seem like one to hold a grudge. If anyone sticks to the guns of their beliefs, I think it’s her.”

Victoria wiped away her pink lips, aware, as she often was, of the paleness of her lips and cheeks. She paused again. “Well . . . yeah. But that’s just it, isn’t it? She’s a good little church girl. I just don’t imagine anybody with a Byzantine icon of Christ liking a lesbian with a pixie cut.” She resumed, again comfortable in her idea, putting Kate back in a preconceived box.

Max just held her brush, leaning on the sink and watching Victoria. Victoria pretended not to notice this gesture. “I think she sees more of you than you think. You live right next to each other. When Nathan comes to your room, if anyone can hear you guys, it’s her. When you watch Space Dandy, she can hear it. When you’re not glaring people down, you’re pretty cute, you know.”

Victoria turned her head to give Max an evil eye, but with the missing spots in her makeup she looked too silly to be effectively intimidating, and Max just smiled, returning to brushing.

“Don’t you think you might just be paranoid? Like, Kate’s nice and pretty and everything, but you don’t need to feel threatened. I really don’t think it’s going to be an issue.” Victoria turned the faucet on full and started rinsing her face with water.

This made Max smile again, but she didn’t bother to respond until she was done brushing. As she was clearing the sink of the paste, though, “I’m not threatened. Honestly, Victoria, you’re cute and a geek. You’re a catch. Any girl in her right mind would have a crush on you. If anyone can understand that, I can - I don’t resent Kate noticing you for you instead of the bitch you think she sees.”

Victoria kept her hands cupped over her mouth while she washed her face considerably longer than necessary. When she pulled them down, she looked back to Max, turning her whole body. Droplets still clung to her face, but small indignities were something she felt she could express with Max, if perhaps only with Max. She shook her head, “God, I love you. You give people way too much credit but thank you.” She lifted up her arms and brought Max close to her for a tight hug that Max could only manage one-handed due to the presence of her toothbrush.

“Well, what can I say, Max ‘Cam’ Caulfield notices everything. I love you too, sweetie.”

 

* * *

 

 

As they turned the corner into the hallways that separated their rooms, they noticed Kate, in sweatpants and a fuzzy bunny t-shirt, exiting her room with her bathroom supplies. She smiled brightly at them.

“Good night you two. I’ll see you tomorrow evening for our tea date, right Max?”

“Actually, no, sorry, I forgot to tell you. I’m going to see a friend of mine back from when I lived here the first time tomorrow. Chloe Price - I think she used to go here.”

Victoria made do by staring around at the slates with text so poorly illuminated she couldn’t make out any of it.

“Oh, that’s sweet of you. Well, we’ll go sometime later this week, then?”

“Totally Kate. I promise. Goodnight, Kate.”

“Goodnight Max. Goodnight Victoria.” Her feet padded softly along the carpet as she made her way to the bathroom, with just a brief pause as she peeked back at the dark silhouettes of the photographers kissing goodnight. She adored their relationship. Although she kept it hidden, her original drawings for her paladin did not contain a catfolk at all - instead, they contained a tall human woman with bright green eyes and a smirk on her face.


	4. Monday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Chloe's request, Max comes face to face with her personal weaknesses.

_ _

_Art by[@genesiswings](http://tmblr.co/mrWOV5t1BQlryIQMWSYKLuQ)_

Max remembered why she had stayed so distant from Chloe. When she came back, she thought she would be strong enough. But she remembered now. She was too weak to manage other people’s pain. She only knew how to run from it.

It was nine in the morning and class did not start for another few hours, because English had been cancelled indefinitely. As she opened the door of her dorm room, she remembered that, and fished around for a red sharpie, which she used to cross out every day of English this week. _It seems like everyone around me is depressed, just out of my sight._ She tried not to think about why it always seemed they were out of her sight, but she still knew why: she was afraid to look.

She went to sit on her bed, but then she noticed a large red package wrapped in white tinsel sitting just below her pillow. A little tag stuck out from the side of it, labeled “Max” in the neat, flourishless print of her girlfriend. She lifted it timidly, and turned the tag around gently. It read: 

**“Happy Late Birthday Max!  
I love you.  
 - V”**

September 21. Her birthday. Exactly two weeks after they’d been together. Victoria was out of town that day. For a late birthday . . . her gifts had been a lot more overwhelming this morning.

She sat down on her bed and pulled the gift onto her lap. She purposefully unwrapped the twine, then began to peel off the wrapping paper. Within a few seconds, she saw what it was and froze. This was straight off of her PhotoPorn wishlist. It was a long-term goal of a camera, so far out of her price range that she hadn’t thought of it even when her mom insisted that she move to digital. She ran a finger over the top of the box. Then guilt filled her, and she felt tears coming back to her eyes, and she collapsed back into her bed, her unilluminated lamps overhead.

She didn’t deserve this, and there was no way she could repay it. That was her concern with the clothes Victoria bought for her, but today the karmatic scales of her life felt so off.

Her best friend . . . the girl that used to be her best friend asked her to kill her. And Max had just sat there, paralyzed, helpless in the face of overwhelming pain that she couldn’t imagine. Her words of denial and confusion weren’t enough, and as Chloe had pleaded with her, she had started sobbing before running out of the house, leaving William with a look of shock and confusion on his face. She was so weak, and here she was with a camera worth more than her education at Blackwell as if this was a fair gift.

She sat there for a time, but she knew she either had to collapse in on herself or push back with whatever form of self control that she could assert. It took her a few moments to push herself upright again, to wipe the staining tears off her cheeks and move to her sofa, leaving the camera and the wrapping paper lying on her comforter. She grasped the neck of her guitar and settled down for a moment, taking deep breaths.

She just played chords. There was nothing really complex that she could bring her to do, and she knew singing was a helpless endeavor right now. She just played as well as she could, trying to settle her nerves and empty her head.

This continues for maybe twenty minutes, and then somebody knocked on the door.

 

* * *

 

 

“Max, are you in there? Did you get your present!?” Victoria. She said the second part as if it were still some secret, whisper-yelling through the door as if Max wouldn’t hear if she didn’t already know.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

Victoria opened the door quickly and closed it behind her quietly, grinning pretty wildly as she saw Max. “What did you think? Isn’t it awesome?” She took a few steps forward and dropped down to her knees, bringing her to the same level, but then she frowned. “You’ve been crying. What’s wrong?”

The guitar, for the moment, acted as a barrier between them, and Max just sort of clutched it tightly. “I spent the night at Chloe’s house,” she started.

Victoria’s brow became pinched together, “Well, I noticed that . . .”

Max nodded slowly and then continued, “It’s really bad. It’s really bad, Vee. She can barely move at all and she needs help just to breathe. She’s so _sick_.” Her voice cracked on the last word, which barely came out. “I waited so long to see her but I don’t think she has long left. She doesn’t, she told me. She’s gonna die.” The tears returned to Max’s face, but she just clutched her guitar.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, Max.” Victoria’s hand just rested on her knee for a moment, but then she reached for the straps of Max’s guitar, waiting for a nod from her before she was able to pull it away from her, settling it back against the side of the sofa. And then she leaned forward, pulling Max against her shoulder as she held her. And Max broke down again, sobbing and falling further onto Victoria’s chest, holding her as tightly as she could. She felt Victoria’s hand in her hair, petting it to soothe her as well as she could.

After a moment, Victoria pushed herself up into a crouch and said, “Come here, babe. Lay with me until class. I’ll keep you safe.”

Max nodded again, and the two moved onto the bed, just setting the camera down for the moment as they lay on the comforter, Max struggling to breathe as Victoria led her in the breathing exercises she herself did to control anxiety. Soon, Max’s breathing became steady again, but she remained in the rigidity of fear.

“I’m sorry if the camera made things worse. I figured I’d get the chance to talk to you about it before you opened it, most likely. I know . . . I know stuff like that can make you anxious.” She rubbed Max’s arm up and down, as if trying to heat somebody suffering from hypothermia.

“I . . . I can never repay you for something like that. You know that. It’s like a commitment I can’t return. It’s . . . I don’t think I can accept it.”

“This is like the clothes, isn’t it? It’s the money, right? Like it puts us on separate playing fields?”

Max exhaled slowly, letting her chest deflate and watching as Victoria’s arm fell, limp, with the lessened support of her torso. “It’s debt. It creates a debt I can’t repay. And I know relationships shouldn’t be like that but it’s so hard to forget when somebody does something like that for you. I think it’s called the rule of reciprocity, or something like that.”

Victoria patted her shoulder. “Max, turn around. Look at me.”

Max obeyed, switching her posture on the bed so that she faced right at Victoria’s eyes now. Victoria’s arm just remained wrapped around her back. “You deserve that. You don’t owe me anything for it. You are the best photographer here at Blackwell, and I don’t want to imagine you being held back because you couldn’t get your photos out there. You have something to give the world, Max. I’m not going to go _Fifty Shades_ on you here - there is no contract, written or otherwise. The world should see itself from your perspective.”

Max met Victoria’s eyes for a long moment, staring at them while her eyes crinkled just as they had the day before. She just couldn’t stop crying no matter what she thought about. “Okay . . . I mean, that sounds fake, but okay.”

Victoria’s lips pursed in a resisted smile, and then she whispered: _“You meme loving fuck.”_  
The both of them began to laugh, but Max’s shaking was barely separated between laughter and crying, but tears were coming, whichever it was. Victoria pulled her head down against her chest and just let her lay there. “It’s going to be okay Max. You’re better than you know. You’ll find the words to say to Chloe. I’ll make you, for your sake, and for hers.”

And there they both lay, knowing that they were weak, but vowing to become stronger. For each other, for Kate, for Chloe, for themselves. They were cowards, not heroes. For now. For now.

 


	5. After Jefferson's Class

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming into line with the main story of Life is Strange, Max conflicts with Jefferson after class. Following that, she, Victoria, and Kate share an intimate moment in the bathroom, followed by the appearance of a strange omen.

_ _

_Art commissioned by[@chill-chinchilla](http://tmblr.co/m0yZcBvOGmHssrEEOKE4MPg). I’ve used their art a lot for this fic and others, as they helped inspire a good 100,000 words of Chasefield fan fic from me. Go check out their art page!_

 

Max was glad that, by the time the bell rang, her high was gone but the numbness it had granted her wasn’t. Unfortunately, at the end of the school day, she knew she’d be left with no choice but to think about what had happened this morning. She put her bag on slowly and stowed away her new camera, having been too embarrassed with the selfie fiasco during class to hide it.  
Within moments, the class was empty except for her, Victoria, Kate, and Mr. Jefferson. Victoria leaned on Jefferson’s desk and had her charm cranked to max, which made Max smile sheepishly for a moment. Kate just sat doodling in her notebook, waiting to talk to Mr. Jefferson once everyone else was gone.

Max headed towards the door. As she reached for the handle, Mr. Jefferson called: “I see you Max Caulfield! Don’t even think about leaving this room without talking to me first.”

Max turned, and Victoria tried to regain his attention, but he snubbed her as Max approached - “Excuse us, Miss Chase.”   
She blinked, taken aback that he’d shut her down like that. He never treated her like that - he always acted interested in what she had to say, if always maintaining some degree of appropriate distance.

“I’d never let one of photography’s brightest stars go without first having her hand in her picture. Well?”

Max touched a hand to her hair, tucking a little bit of it behind her ear nervously. “I’m on it, Mr. Jefferson. I’ve just been really busy recently, it’s been hard to find the right shot . . . or even the right hero. I’ve been taking sample shots but they just don’t seem right.”

He shook his head. “Well, Max, perhaps you should spend a little less time partying with your friends and a little more time behind the camera. You’ve got a gift, but I think you’re being . . . distracted.” His glance at Victoria during this comment was clear, and Victoria stood slowly upright in response, anger crawling its way up her spine, but he didn’t observe her, he looked squarely down at Max.

“Don’t worry Mr. Jefferson, I’ll have it to you by Wednesday, I promise. I want to share my work with the world, I do.”

For some reason, this seemed to make him upset. His voice was considerably louder as he responded, “Well then, you’ve got to _try_ -” this word was accented with the slam of his hand hitting his desk. Each of the girls in the room flinched at this sound, “Don’t you?” He took a deep breath, recognizing how inappropriate that was. His voice was even quieter than normal as he continued. “You have a gift, Max. I think this could be a great opportunity for you. Please, make time for it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I will, Mr. Jefferson.” Max was out of the room like a shot, and as she closed the door behind her, it blocked the rapidly rising vocal response from Victoria. 

Instead, Max found herself submerged in the sea of noise from her classmates. She could feel the surging in her blood and the shallowness of her breath. She leaned against the wall just outside the classroom, fishing for her earbuds as Taylor passed by her, waving hello to her. Max just nodded in response, pushing the earbuds in and mashing down on the “Shuffle” button.

 

* * *

 

Minutes later, Max stared at her dripping face contrasted against a ridiculous, Sharpie-drawn face in the bathroom mirror. She stared at this caricature, unsure how to twist how she was feeling into a clever pun. Luckily, she did not have to.

Victoria opened the bathroom door just a little to slip inside. But she seemed to have words ready as soon as the door was shut. “I don’t know what that asshole was thinking, talking to you like that. You’re like, his favorite too, but he was being such a dick. You’ve had all sorts of shit going on.”

“I’ve had _you_ going on.” The comment was unusually angry, and they both could hear that it was Max lashing out. Victoria just blinked her big green eyes, her lips pursing, but Max took a breath and tried again. “I mean . . . didn’t it seem like he was angry about us?”

Victoria shrugged. “I think he might be pissed because he wants you to win before he’s even seen your entry. But, yeah, he told me ‘Don’t you have better things to do than party with the Vortex Club?’ and said I was being ‘selfish with your time’. I think he may just be a homophobic piece of shit, salty that I’m not just another Rachel Amber.”

“Rachel Amber? The girl who disappeared last year? What’s she have to do with Mr. Jefferson?” Max wiped the cold faucet-dew from her face with her sleeve, which Victoria gave her a bit of a glare about, but then moved to respond.

“One of his students from last year, a senior. They were having sex and everyone knew it - I’m surprised it never got reported to the administration. I . . . sort of thought I might be his type, and it might help me win the contest.”

This second comment took Max aback: “Really? I mean, he’s a hot teacher but he’s . . . old. Would it really be worth it to put your work out there?”

Victoria was grasping either side of the sink now, looking into her reflection, but she gave Max a side-eye and a pause to help her realize she was wrong. Then she elaborated: “I wasn’t going to fuck him, Max. I just thought he might be interested and I could win. I could put up with him being cold for the rest of the year if it meant that sort of publicity.”

Max nodded to herself for several seconds, looking back at the ridiculous face in the mirror. “I just ruined your plan, didn’t I?”

Victoria’s lips were nothing but a thin line. “I worked hard for the shot I got. I can still do this on my own. And if I don’t, you will, and that’s a win.” She sighed heavily, leaning her head down towards the sink.

Max looked down at her girlfriend’s tension, and the sensation in her throat that started in his class wasn’t leaving. “Vee, let’s smoke a little. Jefferson’s just a jerk, but we don’t have to deal with him for another day. I want to relax.”

“Another one?”

“Yeah - please?”

“Sure . . . yeah, yeah Max. Give me a second.”

 

* * *

 

 

Perhaps two minutes later, the duo sat in adjacent stalls, passing the joint back and forth underneath the stalls. Victoria leaned back to sit upright, regaining her posture to the slow rhythm of her breathing and the hits that left her light headed but just . . . lighter.

Max had possession of the weed when the bathroom door opened again and the gentle click of flats made their way inside. At first, the two paid it no mind, but then Victoria realized she could hear crying from outside the stalls. She sat still, as if trying to remain invisible from it. Then, she recognized it.

“Kate? Is that you?”

The crying stopped abruptly. “What? Who’s there?”

“It’s just us, Kate - Victoria and Max.”

There was both relief and tension in Kate’s voice: “Oh. Oh - are you guys smoking?”

Max responded this time, “We are. Want some?” She held the half-gone joint under the front of the stall so that Kate could see it. Victoria sort of smirked at that, Max offering her weed like that, but the thoughtless etiquette was just like her.

“Oh no, I’m good Max. Thank you though, I guess.” She inhaled through her nose, but it just came out as sniffling quite clear to Victoria. There was a pause while Max took a hit and passed it back to Victoria. “Do you guys know why he’s being so mean?”

Victoria was quick to respond, “Who, Mr. Jefferson? Did that asshat say something to you? I swear I am so done with his bullshit today.”

“He just said he heard about what happened at the Vortex club party . . . about how I got drunk and made out with Logan and Zachary . . . he said he was concerned about me but he sounded angry and I don’t know why. I don’t even know how he heard about that.”

Victoria took a long drag and an even longer exhale, mulling that over in her head. Who would have risked telling a teacher? Mr. Jefferson may ordinarily be cool, but still, somebody admitted they had alcohol at a party for the sake of gossip. She would have to weed them out, as much for the club’s sake as well as for Kate’s.

Max spoke up first, “Do you think he might just be really, really pissed about me not turning in a photo?”

Victoria laughed, doubling over on the seat and leaning down against her own knees. Kate from outside even giggled. It was a nice clamber.  
“What are you guys laughing about?”

“You. Naive and egotistical at the same time. Here,” she passed it for the last time off to Max. “Get out of your head. He’s pissed and he thinks he can take it out on the girls of his class.”

Kate still sounded worried: “How do you think he knows, though? I don’t even remember what happened, so how can I defend myself against something like that?”

Max was obviously busy, so Victoria took the role of the consoler. “Look, Kate, we’ll protect you. Whoever spiked your drink, we’ll find them out and they’ll be done at this school. I’ll set Courtney on finding out who leaked that information to Jefferson and we’ll give them hell for a while to teach them a lesson. You don’t have to worry a pretty hair on your head.”

Victoria thought she heard Kate’s breath catch, but it wasn’t really something she could clarify from where she was. “Oh my goodness, you guys . . . a butterfly just flew into the bathroom.”

Max: “What? How?” A loud flush boomed from her stall, whisking away half the evidence. Victoria heard her stall unlatch, and she herself was out just a second later. 

Kate indicated around the corner. “It flew out of the vent. It’s magical.”

The three girls tiptoed over around the corner, watching the butterfly flap its tiny wings as it settled on the corner of an aluminum bucket.

“It’s so pretty,” Kate commented just as Victoria’s phone vibrated. She reached into her pocket to check it.

“You should take the shot, babe - try out the new camera.”

“Yeah . . . yeah, you’re right.” Victoria swiped her screen and noticed two missed messages, as well as the one just now.

“Hey, guys, I’ve gotta go see Taylor and Courtney, but I’ll see you later. I’ll find the chaff and sort it out, don’t worry, Kate.”

 _Snap._  “I think that’ll be good - it’ll help Courtney be less antsy if I’m not there for a little bit.”

“Exactly - two birds, one stone. Or three, as I haven’t really debriefed with Taylor yet about her mom.” As Max stood up from her shot, Victoria kissed her unnecessarily hard on the cheek. “Ta ta for now.”

Victoria couldn’t explain why, but as she walked out of the bathroom, she could feel fear welling up inside her without provocation. She staggered against the door knob for a second. _What the fuck is that_?, she thought. As she made her way out of the building, though, the feeling eased, though her heart continued to race.

 


	6. Monday Afternoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things begin to change for our protagonists. Victoria finds herself comforted by the goofy Warren Graham and aloof Stella Hill, while Max asks Kate out for a little date.

_ _

_Art by[@ben-lyintous](http://tmblr.co/mTO2SsdOH7QcSofL-YtZoNw)_

Max wasn’t sure why, but even as Victoria left the room, she didn’t look away from the butterfly, and for a second she was glad that her new camera didn’t create the flash of her Polaroid, so that it stayed on the bucket. There was just something sort of mesmerizing about it.

“I don’t think I ever got to tell you, Max, how much I appreciate what you did for me at the party.”   
Max finally broke her attention from the butterfly, just holding her camera as she looked at Kate, who continued, “For all I know, I could be dead in some ditch right now if it weren’t for you two.”

Max just swallowed, trying to eat away her anxiety and speak. The buzz was helping, but mostly just in that it made her felt separate from herself. “Whoever did it, I don’t think they were being malicious - they probably didn’t even know it was _your_ wine. I . . . I hope not.”

Max couldn’t bring herself to meet Kate’s eyes. She knew how perceptive this girl was, and she didn’t want to be seen right through. But it was perhaps that very instinct that Kate could observe. “Hey, Max, is something wrong? Or are you just still scared with what happened with Mr. Jefferson?”

Max shook her head, but Kate just kept looking at her, trying to meet Max’s gaze, but that just pushed her eyes more south. After a moment, Max nodded instead. “Yeah. I told you I was going to see my friend Chloe yesterday, right?” Max lifted a finger to her hairline, pushing it off of her forehead. Kate nodded in confirmation, so she continued, “Well . . . she’s really sick. She was in an accident a few years ago and her body keeps getting in worse and worse condition. It doesn’t look very good.”

“Oh . . . Max. I’m so sorry.” Kate’s eyes turned down and her brow furrowed with concern. Her hand found its way to her chest over her heart, as if this was a blow to her personally. Max found Kate’s eyes and looked back at them, finally. “Would you be all okay with it if I prayed for her, Max? It’s Chloe, right?”

Max nodded rather vigorously, aware of how close she was to breaking down again, but she wouldn’t this time. That was so touching and . . . automatic. It was such a Kate thing to say, too. “Yeah . . . would you? That would mean a lot. Thank you so much, Kate. Come here.” The photographer stepped forward and her arms over Kate’s shoulders, hugging her tightly. Kate was too good. For a moment, Max wished there was a god, not for Chloe’s sake, but for Kate’s. She deserved a world that fair.

Kate held Max close, but that was precisely why Max could feel when Kate’s attention became diverted. She said nothing though, until Kate said weakly, but with clear surprise: “The butterfly is gone.”

“What?” Max loosened her grasp, turning her head so that she could stare at the bucket where the butterfly had previously landed. No sign of it. “That’s so weird. Where did it go?”

Their hug was broken, and Kate leaned down, trying to get her head level with the bucket. “I don’t know. How strange.”

“It’s been an awfully strange day,” Max commented, looking down at the camera still in her hand. But the mystery of the butterfly only held her attention for so long.

“Hey, Kate, take a selfie with me. It can be our little fuck-you to Mr. Jefferson’s new attitude. Try lining up with the sharpies.”

Kate giggled a little, but compliantly took a few seconds to position herself in front of the mirror. Max leaned down a little, standing just beside Kate as she peered through the sight of her camera. As she snapped the shot of them together, she realized that something seemed very off about her clothes . . . but a moment later, when she studied the photo in the camera’s screen, she realized she was mistaken. She wasn’t wearing her hoodie today; she didn’t even _own_ anything in salmon; she was wearing her new blouse and skinny jeans.  _“How strange,”_ she muttered, missing the sensation of waving her Polaroid pictures in the air, but unmistakably impressed with the quality of her picture.

“Kate, do you want to go get tea? Like, right now?”

Kate was visibly surprised - “Right now? It’s . . . 3:30 and a week day and I have homework.” Max held her eyes, though, and it didn’t seem like she was really trying to avoid the situation. And, oddly enough, Max realized how nicely made-up Kate’s lips were, and she decided that such precision deserved a reward. Kate worked too hard, even when she actively avoided a reward.

“Yeah. That’s true. And the next bus arrives in ten minutes.”

Kate smiled slowly, but the smile entered her eyes, and that made Max happy to see - she hadn’t seen eyes like that for what seemed like forever, even if it had just been yesterday.

“All right, Max.”

 

* * *

 

 

Victoria became seriously worried she was having an anxiety attack out of the blue. While the fear had been fleeting, her heart raced dangerously, and she found herself collapsing onto the fountain in the center of the quad while she tried to catch her breath. She was acutely aware that her being seen alone and in clear distress would reek of vulnerability, but somehow that awareness was only making things worse.

She had to maintain control, or else this would just spiral further. She put her fingers against her carotid artery to count her pulse while she began her breathing exercises, inhaling for eight seconds, holding for six, out for twelve. In for eight, hold for six, out for twelve. In eight, hold six, out twelve. Her heart began to slow, and after perhaps two minutes of her breathing exercises, she felt a sudden wave of relief, and her relaxation became much easier. She opened her eyes and found Warren Graham sitting next to her, with Stella Hill on his other side.

She said nothing, initially.

“You all right, Vicky?”

Her eyes narrowed, but despite her hatred of that name, she still found herself relaxing, her heart slowing. “Don’t call me that, Warren. Hey, Stella.”

Stella rarely had much to say to Victoria, and this was no different: “Hey Tori.”

Victoria nodded at that, but Warren is hardly as short as his girlfriend. “Whoah, sorry there, Vic-tor-i-ah, I just thought something might be wrong. And we’re sort of friends now, right?”

Victoria raised an eyebrow while remaining heavy-lidded to suggest her disbelief. “I played in your game for Max - that does not make us friends.” As if to punctuate her point, Victoria reached into her pocket and retrieved her phone. Her hands somehow had stopped trembling, and she felt eerily calm in comparison to just a few moments ago, when gnawing fear had crept up without provocation. She opened up her messages to Courtney, noticing that she had a text saying to meet Courtney outside the dorms.

“Well . . . I guess that’s true. But you had fun though, right?” There was hurt in his voice, and Victoria knew that meant there was an opportunity to assert her status. 

But some twinge of regret wormed its way into her heart. She sighed. “Yes, Warren, your game is fun. And if you tell anyone I said that, I’ll personally kick the shit out of you.” Victoria at this point wondered why Stella hadn’t responded to Victoria’s rudeness, but the girl honestly seemed a little out of it. That led Victoria to make eye contact with Warren next, to confirm a hypothesis. And she was correct: somehow these two had gotten stoned a lot faster than she had managed after class. Stella just seemed to stare at a drone flying overhead, completely unfocused on the conversation at hand.

Warren was obviously pleased at this small prestige, and the guilt Victoria was experiencing vanished, and she felt sort of pleased herself, although she could not entirely explain why. “Right on! Well, if you keep on playing with us, I’m sure you guys’ll be _victorious_.” Warren grinned goofily, and Victoria, despite having heard this joke so many times before, giggled despite herself. Then she broke eye contact with him, looking back down at her phone.

Victoria stood up, wiping off the back of her pants unconsciously. “I’ve got to go. Pretend you never saw me here so I don’t have to kick your ass.”

Warren nodded, as if this were perfectly fair. “All right, all right. See you later Vicky . . . aw shit. Bye.

 


	7. Monday Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the sun sets, Victoria and Nathan drink with Frank. Nathan vents his frustrations about his father and Victoria delves into her past with the mysterious Rachel Amber. A mystery appears.

Art by [Lennisterr](http://lennisterr.tumblr.com/post/128425709860/i-loved-her-and-she-loved-me-i-wanted-to)

 

Her time with Courtney and Taylor had been unusually curt and brief. For the most part, they ended up discussing the End of the World party, and Taylor simply stated that her mom was ‘doing okay’ and returned to her phone except to mention that she had gotten DJ Doom on board, which overall was a win. Everything seemed to be going well, but there was a feeling of irritation that hung between Victoria and Courtney the whole time. Even when Victoria asked if she’d noticed anyone bringing drugs into the last party, she provided no names except for “Uh-duh, Hayden,” which just irked Victoria to no end, so she let the whole conversation slide.

Honestly, Victoria felt like today was too much of an emotional roller coaster, she had a headache, and the pot was making her sleepy. So, at about 5pm, she made her way into her dorm room, where she felt at peace for the first time today … almost. Even if she had been so reassuring with Max earlier, she had to admit to herself that she was at a loss. Grief over a death was not something that she had ever had to confront, nevermind of a close friend.  
Chloe … Chloe Price. That name sounded horribly familiar, but Victoria simply could not tell why. If she’d been in the accident in 2010, she and Victoria should have spent at least a few months of school together, but nevertheless, Victoria remembered nothing. Somebody faceless to Victoria was going to die, meaning next to nothing to her, but the waves of that death would touch her through Max. It was such a strange, detached form of dread.

But even with her rumination, Victoria was asleep before long, only to be awaken around 7pm by the door of her room being opened. She sat up like a shot in response to the click of the door shut with a, “What the fu- … oh, hey, Nathan.” Victoria shook her head and slid back on her bed to create some room.

Nevertheless, Nathan didn’t sit down. His hands were in his jacket, and his feet twitched quite a bit. “Hey Tori - I didn’t mean to wake you up, you just weren’t picking up your phone.” He scratched the side of his face, covering his mouth with his hand as he did.

“Hmm?” She asked sleepily. “Why, what did you need?” She found her heart recovering its previous anxious rhythm, only now she was much more confused.

“Oh, nothing much. I just want to head over to Frank’s for a little bit, but I … I don’t want to take my car.” There was hesitance in his voice that Victoria rarely heard. But when she heard it, it snapped her right into focus.

“Why? What’s going on, Nathan?”

He sat down on the edge of her bed, keeping his hands in his jacket pockets. She could tell that his fists were clenched, and she could see now that he was sweating, as if he’d run here.

“I … I’m just being paranoid, probably. But I feel like I’m being followed every time I get in my car. I’m just freaking out a little.” He was freaking out a lot just under the surface, Victoria could _feel_ it. As drowsy as she was, she still dragged herself over to his side of the bed and, standing on her knees, pulled the side of his head against her chest.

“Nobody’s going to fuck with us, Nate, least of all you, Prescott.” He nodded against her shoulder, and she took that to heart. “But let’s get you fucked up anyway. Maybe you should lay off the weed for a while though, your episodes are worse when you’re cross-faded. Come on.” She sat up and got her shoes on, while Nathan just stood, unusually rigid. There was something more eating at him, Victoria knew, but there was always something more that she couldn’t see, hated to see, when something ugly crawled its way out of him.

 

* * *

 

 

Frank was keeping track of every beer they drank. Say what you might about him, Frank was well-connected, incredibly organized, and keen through the haze of whatever intoxicants he might be under, although that rarely strayed away from a six-carton of dark beer. He knew the sort of shit he’d get into if he indulged in his wares - he saw a huge procession of Blackwell students getting fucked up by the stuff he dealt well beyond their graduation (if they made it that far) and continued to deal to them thereafter. Not everyone was as lucky in their recovery after high school as Frank himself had been.

And, to be perfectly honest, Nathan could drink a shit-ton of beer, which suited Frank just fine. While Victoria had settled for one, Nathan had probably gone through seven in the past hour, dropping them in the sand just outside of Frank’s RV.

Frank was talking to Nathan, “Man, how long have you and I been working together? And when in that time has your dad _not_ been giving you shit about _something_?” 

Nathan just shook his head. “It’s always been like this. No matter what I do it’s just not enough for him. I mean, what’s that bitch principal going to do to me, honestly? So what does it matter what I do at Blackwell if not _shit_ is going to happen? It’s just … just.”

“Bullshit?” Frank concluded, chuckling.

“Yes. Ugh, yes. At least back in the good old days partying with Rachel got my mind off it, but the past six months have just been … bullshit.”

Victoria just played with her empty beer bottle, looking down at the white sand. The red-orange heat of the Oregon sunset burned the side of her face.

“Huh … yeah,” Frank deadpanned at the mention of Rachel, looking down at his own beer. A black, cold feeling gripped inside Victoria in great contrast to the heat.

After a tense, awkward, and quiet minute, Frank looked over at Victoria and softly prodded - “You never used to come around here back then, Queen Bee. And you didn’t start buying until your girlfriend starting coming around - why’s that?”

Victoria just shook her head, but Frank didn’t relent his gaze. Instead, he just leaned forward in his lawn chair and asked again: “Huh? Why not.”

Victoria stood still for a bit, but Nathan and Frank both could see that she was getting ready to talk, just searching for the words, sifting through memories. “It was … ah. Because of Rachel, actually.”

Nathan sunk back in his seat as if he’d heard this before and became disengaged, but Frank became the exact opposite - he sat forward, holding his beer in one hand with the other on his knee. “Why? You two have some problems as the cool cats of Blackwell or something?” He was trying to keep it light, but as Victoria met his eyes, she knew that just some added information about Rachel was enough to make him feel involved. And a little hurt.

“No … no, It was nothing like that. I mean … I knew Rachel since my family moved down from Seattle. We partied together a lot with the Vortex club. She was … fun. Lots of fun. But she never really took it seriously, like it was just some little distraction in the background of her life. It was mysterious. She was too big for this place: too beautiful, too wild, too much. I remember, at a party for Hayden’s birthday, we covered in paint, or like, the stuff in glow sticks, I’m not sure, but she looked like fire to me.” There was such a softening in the tension that it was palpable, and that softening made it easier for Victoria to keep talking, even though she was sure she shouldn’t. “I … I asked her to kiss me and she tasted like cigarettes and booze but I didn’t care. I thought what I was feeling, whatever it was, was like love … or some bullshit. And I told her that.”

Frank laughed weakly, seeming to understand that Rachel had that effect on people. “So what, she snub you or something?”

Victoria was quiet for quite a long time, but Frank respected it this time, not asking her to continue until the words came from her on their own, “No. No she didn’t. She just kissed me more, but it was too hot so we found Hayden’s room. And … yeah.” 

She wasn’t sure why, but jealousy colored her words now, even though she knew it should be anger rising. It created a pit in her stomach even as it burned in her throat. “Well, it was fine. It was all fine. In the morning, after Hayden woke us up, I took my pills like I always do, and she got weirded out when she saw them. She asked me what they were and when I explained I had to take estrogen every morning, I think it clicked for her. And she freaked out. Started yelling at me …” she finally looked down, away from Frank, and the anger and shame filled her again.

Frank was quiet for a moment but then he asked quietly, almost evasively, “Wait, you take estrogen? What for, like … wait, does that mean you were a dude?”

The feelings grew hotter as they were pulled from the past to the present. Frank continued before she could respond, though, “Ho-hol-ly shit, you’re the transgirl that Rachel fucked, aren’t you?”

Victoria’s bite back was cold and her stare withering, “Don’t you ever. Call me a dude, asshole.” The sharp look in her eyes, the way she started to stand up, and just the tension that entered her muscles frightened the much-less sober drug dealer.

Nathan even leaned forward, making a swiping motion in front of his neck as Frank looked around as if confused. Nathan followed up, “Don’t say shit like that, man. Tori’s a girl. She’s the queen bitch of Blackwell, after all. That’s fucked up.”

Frank leaned back into his chair. “Well, shit.” He downed the rest of his beer. “I had no clue. Sorry, shit, sorry. So, she freaked. Didn’t you two … work it out?”

Victoria shook her head, trying to settle down, chock this up to ignorance, and push it down. But confusion and embarrassment and anger were not quick to fade. “She didn’t even speak to me again until a year later, when you two were together. We never talked about it again, any of it. But I was already forced to remember it over and over - so no, Frank, I didn’t want to come here, excuse me.”

They all sat is tense silence for a while. Frank got out another beer, while Nathan gave up drinking. Victoria bit her nails, looking out towards the gold-orange sea, avoiding eye contact with them both. Then, Victoria remembered that she had a question. “Frank. About a week and a half ago, did you sell anything that could be used as a date rape drug?”

The tension thinned in response to a business question, and guilt suddenly welled up in Victoria as she looked at Frank, who held her gaze for a moment. His hand twitched on the neck of his beer. “Hell no,” he said. “I don’t move that shit.” She nodded, looking away again to try and hide her guilt at having asked.

And that’s when she saw it. “Is that … snow?!” Her eyes widened in amazement. Drifting down seemingly from nowhere, tiny flakes of snow fluttered in the light breeze, dropping onto the warm sand and melting instantaneously. She saw it fall into Nathan’s hair and stared.

“What the fuck?"

 


End file.
